


1 I" 



Dramatic Plays for Young Peoples' Societies 



The Soap Club 



BY 



E. J. FREUND. 



PRICE 20 CENTS 



ANTIGO PUBLISHING CO. 

ANTIGO, WISCONSIN 

Copyright 1916 by Antigo Publishing Company 

I I 



n 



1 r 



Dramatic Plays for Young Peoples' Societies 



Tne Soap Club 



BY 



E. J. FREUND. 



ANTIGO PUBLISHING CO. 

ANTIGO, WISCONSIN 

Copyright 1916 by Antigo Publishing Company 

I I 



THE SOAP CLUB .^ , 



Cast of characters: . v 



<\' 



Mrs. Gooseman 
Mrs. Becker 
Mrs. Toper 
Mrs. Taylor 
Mrs. Harder 



Mrs. Myers, elderly woman, knitting at a stocking 
of home-spun wool, talking peevishly. 

rural characters of a homely 
looking kind, dressed in cal- 
ico, white apron, hair parted 
in the middle and smoothened 
downward over ears; sewing 
or crocheting. 
Mrs. Dollar, a farm lady of a somewhat higher educa- 
tion; a string of glass beads around neck; earrings; 
hair gathered in topknot, with a large topcomb; 
thread-worn silk dress. — President of Soap Club, 
hence some dignity. 

Mrs. Steelel two more rotund than lenghty ladies 
Mrs. Long J with bib aprons and side combs. 

Tena, the servant of Mrs. Myers; foot-free skirt, 

wooden slippers, coarse white woolen stockings. 

Hair donned in two long braids hanging down back. 

White lace cap. 
Scene: large room at Mrs. Myers; old-time wooden 

chairs, placed around the walls; in center at the 

front a small table with boquet on. 
Curtain rising shows Mrs. Myers seated at es^eme 

right, knitting. ^ V .^ "^ 



)CI.D 44805 .^ 



SEP -5 1916 TMP92-009303 



1 



THE SOAP CLUB. 



Mrs« Myers. There, I lost another mesh! (tries to take it 
up.) How silly of me. And this on the very day when 
all the ladies of the Soap Club are due at my house for 
their monthly meeting! Should this be a bad forebod- 
ing.. . Well, I say! And I can't get the measly thing 
on again. . . the needle won't go thru the loop, (calls): 
Te-na! - Teee-na-a-a! 

Tena (behind the scene). Yes-s! 

Myers. I lost a mesh and for the life of me can't take it 
up again. Will you come and help me? 

Tena (behind scene.) Yes-s, I'll be there as soon as I put 
on my slippers. 

Myers (to herself.) If she is running about the kitchen 
on her socks, she certainly is out of humor, that much 
I know. To think of all the fine ladies coming here and 
Tena cross-grained, makes me feel nervous. Something 
is sure to turn out wrong this afternoon. (To Tena who 
enters.) Look, did you ever see the like of this? See, if 
you can put it back on the needle. My eyes are dim as 
tho I'm looking thru cobwebs. 

Tena (takes stocking from Mrs. Myers and endeavors to 
put back mesh.) Dear me, how things like this will hap- 
pen! Why, your fingers are trembling! 

Myers. Should't wonder if they do. I'm not used to such 
racket as we shall soon have here. And to think of 
that most stylish Mrs. Dollar. . .She dresses so exclu- 
sively and looks about her with so much dignity, that I 
feel afraid of her. Wonder how she will like our 
cookies. 



Tena. Cookies? If we only bad some! It scared me so 
when you called me that I dropped a slab of wood on 
the baking oven and when I peeped in, all our cookies 
had fallen flat like shingles. I'm sure we can't offer 
them to Mrs. Doller. 

Myers. There! I knew something would happen as soon 
as I dropped that mesh. What are we to do about it? 
So many ladies in the house and no cookies! 

Tena. Don't fret, Mrs. Myers. I have sent Fred to the 
grocer to get some of those store cookies. (Hands back 
stocking.) There, your mesh is on again. What I was 
going to say — shall I push the big family table in this 
room and set it here ? 

Myers. O dear, no, Tena, no, no, not in here. That 
wouldn't be stylish. In fact it would be ridiculous to 
dine from that big table. No, my dear girl, our Soap 
Club dines from the lap. That's the way they did it 
when they met at Mrs. Gooseman's and Taylor's. From 
the lap, my dear girl, is all the go. They hold the cup 
with their left hand and put the cooky on their lap, if 
they don't choose to hold it with their right hand. 
That's the only style possible with the Soap Club. Don't 
give us away, Tena, by setting the table in here. 

Tena. And do they take the coffee also from their lap? 

Myers. No, they take that from the cup while it stands 
on the saucer. But don't you fill it up to the rim — only 
half filled, Tena, and on top of the coffee a spoonful of 
whipped cream — never and under no conditions any 
skim milk, Tena! That's what educated people call Sim- 
mi Toss. Remember that, and don't you make us ri- 
diculous in their sight- 

Tena. And what am I to do with those spoiled cookies? 



Myers. Fut them aside until some other time, then I'll 
try them to see whether they are still fit to eat. You've put 
in them all those expensive eggs, and sugar, and cream, 
and nutmeg. It would be a sin to throw all that away* 
We'll eat 'em by the way — I mean when we're between 
ourselves. (A rap at the door,) Mercy, there goes the 
first knock at the door. Run and see who it may be. 
Shouldn't wonder if it's the first one of them. 

Tena. Well, now in case it's some of them womens, shall 
I bring 'em in here ? 

Myers. Yes, show 'em in here. (Tena exit.) I wonder 
where else she would want to put them. There's no 
room in the kitchen, and the dining room is taken up by 
the big table. No, they must come in here, for this is my 
best room, and Tena has scrubbed the floor to a nicety 
. . . Wonder who it is. (stares expectantly towards en- 
trance.) 

Mrs. Gooseman and Mrs. Becker (enter.) How-de-do? 

Myers, (without rising.) How-de-do. Make yourself at 
home. Take a seat. There are chairs at the wall. 
(Both ladies sit.) Well, how is the weather outside? 

Mrs. Becker. Tolerably fair so far. But our cat was 
scratching her left ear when I left this noon; I'm afraid 
we will have some rough weather before long. 

Mrs- Gooseman. Well, I always thought that it was a sign 
of something else. My mother always said that in a 
case like that we were to get callers. 

Myers. Yes, that's what I always heard. 

Becker. You are right if the cat licks herself behind the 
left ear. But our's didn't lick herself. It was scratch- 
ing, which she did. 

Goose. Maybe that'll turn out differently. I should think 



6 

when a cat scratches herself, it would foretell thunder 
and lightning. 

Myers (softening them down.) After all you may be right, 
who knows! I'm sure that cats know more about the 
weather than anyone would believe. 

Goose. And, then, I think thunder and lightning fits very 
v/ell together with rain, for when I heard the old she-owl 
ia Flanning's swamp hoot last night at twelve o'clock, I 
till .ight right away of thunder and lightning. It always 
rains when she hoots that way. 

M.5^ers. To be sure, rain and thunder fit admirably well to- 
gether. I guess Mrs. Becker's cat is right after all. 

Becker. That reminds me — when I gathered in the eggs 
yesterday, I saw some goose-quills curling wildly in a 
fence corner, and whenever quills circle like that some- 
thing is sure to happen. 

Goose. For life's sake, do you want to say that there was 
a spook in that fence corner? 

Becker. I don't believe in a spook. Still when you see 
loose quills monkeying around in a fence corner, it isn't 
far from raining, so much is certain. 

Myers (softening them down.) Shouldn't wonder if some- 
thing like that will turn up; for rain and thunder belong 
together, (knocks at the door.) Come in. 

Mrs. Loper, Taylor and Harder (enter.) How-de-do. 

Mrs. Becker and Gooseman. How-de-do. 

Myers. How-de-do. Well, be seated, women, there's 
plenty chairs in the room. 
(Mrs. Loper, Taylor and Harder sit.) 

Mrs. Loper. What do you say to that? Mrs. Becker and 
Gooseman are here already. Well, how are you folks? 

Becker. Thank you, I'm well. How are your folks far- 
ing? 



Mrs. Taylor. We're keeping on the move, that's about all. 
Any news? 

Goose. We talked about the weather. 

Taylor. About the weather, you say? I'm afraid it won't 
last. When I went into the cattle yard this morning, 
our geese made a murderous noise, honking and flapp- 
ing their wings like mad. I've noticed that this is al- 
ways a sure sign of dry weather. 

Becker. We were just talking about feathers, but we 
made out that they foretell thunder showers. 

Taylor. Thunder showers? How so, Mrs. Becker? Look, 
it is like this way: when you see geese fly and honk, 
something is in the air, that's sure, you ma^^ depend on 
it. So my mother has always told me, and if anybody 
knew something about the weather, it was my mother. 

Myers (appeasingly.) We're only talking, that's all. It 
may just as well be a dry spell as rain, you know. 

Goose. No, Mrs. Myers, I differ decidedly. When you 
hear that old she-owl hoot in Henning's swamp. It'll 
be nothing but a drenching rain. 

Myers (calming her down.) So let it be rain, for all I 
care. 

Mrs. Harder. I've got a better sign than that. When I 
was milking our cows this morning, I saw Redstripes, 
which is our oldest and wisest cow, blow up her nostrils 
in a suspicious manner; and when she acts that way, we 
are certain to have rain. 

Goose. There! Didn't I tell you'^ Now Mrs. Harder says 
the same thing. 

Becker. And as soon as two unite on one thing, it is the 
very thing which will happen. So let us look out for a 
big thunder storm. 



Loper. Now, I always hate to butt in if some one is talk- 
ing, but allow me to say something. When I was milk- 
ing our red cow this morning she put a loop in her tail, 
and if she rings her tail early in the morning, we always 
have a fair day. 

Taylor. Really, this is getting more interesting at every 
second. One cow foretells rain by blowing up her nos- 
trils and the other fair weather by turning a loop in her 
tail. Now I'm anxious to see what kind of weather 
we'll have. 

Loper. And you'll see that it'll be fair, for our red cow 
never makes a mistake. 

Mj^ers (soothingly.) Why shouldn't we have a fair day? 
I think that's what we'll get. For cows know more a- 
bout the weather than one would imagine. 

Goose. Then, I suppose, cows must feel a certain kind of 
tickling in their tail when the weather changes; other- 
wise I can't see how they make it out. 

Becker* Why can't it be that their nose itches when the 
weather changes? You know it's the same way with 
women-folks who say that their nose always itches when 
they are going to hear interesting news. Who can tell! 

Loper. Maybe you are right, Mrs. Becker, but I am 
positive that a loop in the tail foretells fair weather. 

Myers (soothingly.) Why shouldn't it? Some cows are 
very wise and experienced. 

Becker. But the majority of us have foretold rain, Mrs. 
Myers, listen (keeping count by touching her fingers): 
our cat has been scratching her left ear; the old she -owl 
in Henning's swamp has been hooting the dear life out'n 
herself; our goose quills have been flying around in the 
fence corner; and Mrs. Harder's red-striped cow has 
been blowing up her nostrils. All these are signs for 



rain and thunder storms. Still I can add another one: — 

since this morning my corns haye been hurting me, and 

that's a sign of bad weather, you may believe me or not. 
Myers, (soothingly.) So we shall have rain, I believe. 
Taylor. And I say, if our geese honk and flap their wings, 

we will most certainly have a dry spell, and there's no 

use of talking any longer. 
Loper. And there you are right, Mrs. Taylor, for there is 

surely a good reason for it, when our red cow loops her 

tail. 
Myers, (appeasingly.) And why not, I would like to 

know? Cows aijd geese are almost rational beings. 

(knock at the door.) Come in. (when this invitation 

does not meet with instantaneous result.) Come in, I 

say! 
Mrs. Dollar, (enters with dignified behavior, talks slowly 

and very emphatic.) How are you, every one of you 

ladies? 
All. How-de-do, Mrs. Dollar? 
Myers. Now, Mrs. Dollar, have a seat, too; as you see all 

the others are sitting. 
Mrs. Dollar. How good of you, Mrs. Myers. I'll take 

the liberty to sit down (sits). I behold most of our 

members present. 
Goose. Yes, we're at it quite lively, talking about the 

weather. Now give us your opinion: Will it rain or 

shine? 
Dollar. How can I tell! But when I left home, I saw our 

gray mule shaking its ears. As a rule that is a sign of 

wind. 
Becker. Another vote for rain! Now I dare the dry 

prophets to foretell a dry spell. 



10 

Taylor. Wind is no rain, I should say. When the geese 
flap their wings, it means dry weather, 

Loper. And after all you'll see that our red cow is right. 
Last night when we sat around the table reading, our 
lamp flickered. Then my man said, The lamp flickers 
we will have a change in the weather. 

Goose. I always thought that in a case like that the wick 
needs cleaning. 

Dollar. ^ Or it may have its cause in the kerosene; as soon 
as the kerosene hasn't got suflicient ocean in it, the 
flame flickers. 

Becker. Dear me! I always thought that the ocean served 
to carry ships; and now you say it is burning in the 
lamp 

Dollar, (smiling sweetly.) In order to understand scien- 
tific principles one has to have education. If a sub- 
stance is to burn it has to contain carbuncle and ocean. 

Goose. I believe you, Mrs. Dollar. My husband said the 
other day, it had to contain stink stuff and vinegar, 
otherwise it will not burn. 

Dollar, (very dignified.) Stink stuff -- yes, but vinegar? 
I guess you wanted to say acid. 

Goose. Maybe that's the same stuff, I didn't pay very 
close attention to his words. But he didn't say ocean; 
it was very much like ozon. 

Dollar. You see that's the same stuff I meant, for car- 
buncle acid or ocean is something in the air that causes 
us to breathe ocean and also fire to burn. 

Lopet. Mercy! that's more than 1 can understand. 

Dollar. One doesn't have to understand it, for it is science. 
It is the same thing that's in the weather. When the 
sparrows gather at your window with lively chirping, 



n 

there's electric in the air and we'll have rain the very- 
same day. But nobody knows how the sparrows know 
it. 

Goose. There you got it! Didn't I say ri^ht at the start 
that it sounds spooky? And now we have the proof. 

Myers (soothingly.) Well, why can't it be that way, Mrs. 
Gooseman? How do we know? 

Dollar. But excuse me, Mrs. Gooseman, a spook is some- 
thing entirely different; it isn't science. 

Goose. It is all the same to me. But if the old she-owl in 
Henning's swamp hoots like mad, we'll have rain. That 
isn't a bit spooky, (knock at the door.) 

Mrs. Myers. Come in! Come in! 

Mrs. Steele and Mrs. Long(enter) How-de-do. 

All. How-de-do. (Mrs. Dollar loudly and sharply): How 
do you do ? 

Myers. Well, sit down in the row, there are two vacant 
chairs left, (newcomers sit.) 

Dollar (scrutinizing the new-comers.) Now our Soap Club 
is complete, I guess. We will now talk about soap. 

Steele. As far as I'm considered, it's a go, for Mrs. Klip- 
per can't come. 

Dollar. Why not? 

Steele. Nothing special, only she sent her kitchen girl 
away and must do her work herself. 

Goose. What made her send the girl away? 

Steele. On 'count of some kind of business, I heard. 
There was no real reason for it, only that the girl in- 
sulted Mrs. Klipper. 

Myers. A good girl will never insult her mistress, for it 
isn't nice. 

Becker. How did it happen? 



12 

Steele* Well, you see, she sent the girl to the druggist to 
get some insect powder for the cabbage worms, and the 
girl always brought home such a big package for five 
cents. Mrs. Klipper felt astonished at this, for when 
she got insect powder, the druggist would give her not 
half as much. She up and inquires, how so and why. 
Well, the girl says, I always tell him it is for Mrs. 
Klipper; then he'll give me a big pile and say wonder- 
ingly. Must she have a lot of vermin! That, you see, 
made Mrs. Klipper mad and she told the girl to leave. 
Myers. I'm sure a decent girl wouldn't have said such a 

thing, for people can make a whole lot of it 
Dollar. Now we ought to be ready to take up soap talk. 
Loper(to Harder.) Mrs. Harder, I heard you have been 

away lately. 
Harder, 'Tis so. I went on a visit to my sister's daugh- 
ter's child, where I had to ride on the train for many 
miles; after that I had to take to a ship and ride on a big 
piece of water. They told me it was half as big as the 
biggest ocean. 
Taylor. What was the name of it. 
Harder. That I didn't catch; it sounded very much like 

keekerkee. 
Loper. I never heard of such an ocean. 
Harder. That's very likely. But I'm sure that there is 
such a big water, for I sailed on it. And they had a 
terrible mean mate on the ship. When I asked him the 
name of the big water, he told me to crow like a young 
bantam rooster, keekereekee, and I wouldn't forget it. 
And he was right in spite of his meanness. 
Dollar (pensively.) Like a crowing bantam rooster? Kee- 
kereekee? Was it lake Erie? 



13 

Harder- So it was! I remember quite well that there was 
a lake before it. But I thoug'ht it to be the ocean and 
enquired of the rude-mannered mate whether this was 
the Pacific ocean. He said this wasn't no ocean, at all 
not the Pacific because it was too loud here; the word 
pacific meaning quiet water. 'Why is it too loud here?' 
I asked. 'Because there is too many inquisitive wim- 
min here,' he says. There! imagine his rudeness! 

Myers. Indeed, that was very rude. 

Mrs. Long. While you talk about traveling — that re- 
minds me. When I went to the big city called Minne- 
poppel, the train went so very slow that it seemed to 
me as tho we did hardly move. According to the time- 
table we were due there at four p. m., and now it was 
past five alread3^ So I asked the conductor why they 
didn't make better time, and he said. We don't travel 
by hours, we travel by date only. Imagine a conduc- 
tor talking like that! 

Dollar (restlessly.) I'm sure that's very educating, but 
ladies, how about our soap? Why not talk about soap? 

Myers (soothingly.) Soap is very good and a nice thing to 
have; everybody is using it. 

Becker. O, Mrs. Myers, while I think about it — what is 
the old gent who is rooming with you, doing for a living? 
What is his business? 

Myers. His business at present is, as far as I am able to 
tell, to merely room here. At least that is all he does. 

Long. I hope he doesn't overwork himself in doing that. 
He must be a man like mine. When mine sees that 
I've been splitting half a cord of stove wood, he sits 
down in the rocker and weeps half a day long because I 
have to work so hard. 



14 

Steele. Well, he certainly thinks something of his wife» 
To tell the truth, neither have I any reason to complain. 
My man is very good. You wouldn't believe his fond- 
ness for music. He is practicing on the pi^^anner all 
day long and never gets tired of music. But the pity 
of it is his fingers are so very clumsy that he always 
strikes two keys at a time with one finger. He can't 
even finish a simple melody. 

Goose (laughingly.) What a funny player! So he really 
plays two parts with one finger. He reminds me of the 

baker in (name some near town) who had such 

little eyes that he always got the size of his buns too 
small. There was no other way for him but to buy a 
magnifying glass in order to make them of the right 
size. 

Dollar (impatiently). But, ladies, we are forgetting the 
soap. Every one of us must do some washing. 

Loper. Washing I Ain't we washing right along? While 
we're rasping the men-folks, I must tell you a story of 
my man. He likes to go rabbit hunting, but nev- 
er gets anything. So he takes our boys along to drive 
the rabbits up to his stand. Eecently he shot three 
times at a big rabbit father without hitting him. His 
usual luck. Then he overheard Henry calling to Fred, 
If pa doesn't stop his bum shooting we won't get a 
single rabbit to-day. 

Dollar. I don't see how they are to get rabbits without 
shooting them. 

Loper. Well, you see, if my man stops shooting at them, 
the boys aren't afraid any more, they catch the rabbits 
and kill them with a club. 

Harder. Mrs. Gooseman, you were talking about playing 



15 

the piano. The other day I heard your man play a 

beautiful tune. Can you tell me what it was? 
Goose. I presume it must have been 'The Last Rose' for 

he's always pounding that tune. 
Loper. Well, isn't 'The Last Rose' a nice piece? 
Goose. Don't know. I prefer 'spargrass with cream every 

time. 
Dollar (very loud and dignified.) Ladies! It's getting high 

time to begin with the soap. Who is wanting some 

soap to-day? 
Taylor (to Steele, loud.) Did you get your telephone in 

the house? 
Steele. We did. But excuse me, I heard your Gussie 

went to college. Is that so? 
Taylor. Yes, she went. But I'm afraid she won't stand it 

very long. 
Steele. What makes you think so? 
Taylor. They're overburdening her with study. Just 

think of it, she has to take six perodicals daily. I'm 

sure no girl can stand that. 
Steele. Periodical ? Is that what one calls v. newspaper? 
Taylor. I think so. But, my lands! I don't want Gussie 

to become a newspaper girl. I wonder why she has to 

read so many papers. 
Dollar. Are you sure she wrote 'periodicals V When I 

went to college we had to take six periods a day, periods 

meaning lesson-hours. 
Tajdor. O, lessons, you say? Maybe she meant lessons 

by that horrible word. Why can't they teach their 

scholars decent language at college, I should like to 

know! 
Steele. How does your Gussie like the college life? 



16 

Taylor* She is much pleased with it. But it seems to me 
they are doing uncanny things over there. She writes 
that they don't write with pen and ink as we had to do 
at school; they write by tipping a keyboard like there 
is on our parlor organ. 

Steele. I don't see how they can write by tipping on a 
keyboard. 

Dollar. It seems to me she must have a typewriter that 
she is learning to write with. That's a certain kind of 
machine made for the purpose of writing letters and the 
like. 

Steele. For land's sake, what is this old world coming to? 
I just hate to look at machines. They are now doing 
their laundry with machines, I'm told, and some one 
was telling me that farmers are hatching young chicks 
with machines. Did you ever hear of such nonsense? 

Myers. (interestedly.) Do you mean the ouch-mobiles? 
You are perfectly correct. They almost scare the life 
out'n me everytime I have to cross the street. Dear 
me! Now-a-days a child has to be born with eyes in 
front and on the back. Looking back on the streets al- 
most strains one's neck. Don't mention ouch-mobiles 
to me. 

Goose. That's what I say! And what's still worse is the 
airships. I would like to know, how soon they'll fly a- 
bove our town. I'm so awfully afraid one of them 
buzzing machines will fall right on to my head when 
I'm outdoors. 

Steele. Something like that is liable to happen any day, 
I'm sure. My Gussie wrote me in her last letter that 
at college she has to learn about the meannesses of the 
olden times. Imagine that! Teaching our girls all the 



17 

meannesses of other peoples! Why can't they teach 

them something good instead? If Gussie losses her 

mind and comes home a lunatic, it is the fault of her 

professors. And at home she won't even know how to 

bake Johnny cake. What a shame! 
Dollar. Ladies; I must remind you that we have met here 

as the Soap Club. When will we begin to talk about 

soap? I think we are losing time. 
Myers(soothingly.) Wouldn't it be better to wait a little 

yet"? That reminds me (calls) Te-na! Tena! Come here, 

(To her guests.) We'll have a little bite before we talk 

about soap. 
Tena (enters.) What is it you want, Mrs. Myers? 
Myers. Now it's time, Tena — bring in the lunch, a cup 

of coffee for each one and cookies on a tray. 
Tena. Cookies? Didn't I tell you that our cookies fell 

flat in the tin when I dropped the slab of firewood ? 
Myers (greatly embarrassed.) Oh — Oh - - that - - Wait, 

I'll go along and help you (exit with Tena.) 
All (laughing loudly as soon as door closes. The next 

dialog following in quick succession.) 
Goose. Well, I say! 
Becker. That silly goose of a girl! 

Loper. That's what you get when you want to show off. 
Taylor. I say, leave everything to the kitchen girl! 
Harder. Shouldn't wonder if her Tena learned how to 

bake cookies at college. 
Steele. I'll bet it'll be a swell lunch! 
Long. Easy! She is coming. 

Dollar. Now, ladies, put on a sober face, everybody. 
Myers and Tena (enter. Myers holds tray with 'store' 

cookies and offers to every lady with appropriate re- 



18 

mark. Tena carries large tray with eight cups and 

saucers of which she serves one to every one.) 
Goose (takes a cup with saucer.) My, but that coffee 

smells fine! 
Becker (takes. To Loper): How is your sick neighbor 

getting along. Has he got sleep? appetite ? 
Loper. He sleeps but he isn't appetizing. 
Taylor (takes. To Harder): Are you drinking your coffee 

black? 
Harder (takes.) No, only the first three cups, for the rest 

I take cream. 
Dollar(takes. To others.) The first thing we must do after 

this is to talk about soap. 
Steele (takes. To Long): Your Fred always was a nice 

looking boy. 
Long (takes.) That's of no use anymore; day before yes- 
terday he got engaged to Lily Liber. 
Myers (takes and sits down on her chair.) Now you all 

must eat and drink as much as you like. If anyone 

wishes for more coffee, just say so. 
Tena. Then I'll have to put water in the kettle right away, 

for the first batch is gone. 
Myers (reprovingly.) Oh, Tena! 
All (while hiding merriment.) Never mind, Tena, I don't 

wish for more, I've got a great plenty. [Tena exit.] 
Dollar (trying to cover embarrassment.) Has any one of 

you heard that our minister has declined to bury old 

man Horner? 
All. No! When did he die? 

Goose. That strikes me like lightning from a sunny sky. 
Becker. I say! The old man, gone, eh? Only yesterday 

I had a chat with him. He must have died quite sud- 



19 

den. 
Loper. So they got rid of him at last. He's been old and 

bothersome for quite a time. 
Harder. I wonder why our minister refuses to bury him. 
Taylor. Something must have happened to anger the 

minister; otherwise he wouldn't refuse his burial. 
Dollar (rising and putting cup and saucer on table.) Now 

I must go home. I had a dish of dough standing on 

the hot water box when I left. It must have raised by 

this time. So I'm going home to put it into the baking 

tins. 
Steele (astonished.) I thought we were going to talk about 

soap now! 
Dollar. Didn't I remind you of soap ever so often, but 

none of you would listen. Now my time is up, I must 

hurry. 
Steele. You surely have got a couple minutes time yet. 

Stay for just a little while longer. 
Dollar. No, I haven't got a minute time. I fear my 

dough is wandering up and down the kitchen floor. 
Long. But I made up my mind to talk about getting 

some soap. 
Dollar. Haven't got time. Next time you talk about 

soap when I remind you of it. Good-by (exit.) 
Taylor. See her sailing off! I didn't think she was in 

such a hurry. 
Steele. Let her rip. We'll order soap ourselves. 
Harder. She's balky because we wouldn't listen. 
Loper. Well, I think one is entitled to a word or two 

without asking her permission. 
Becker. Stj^'lish people like her are easily insulted. We 

must have soap by all means^ 



20 

Goose. Naturally so* Who of you knows the address of 

the soap Company ? 
Steele. I don't know it. Listen, women, who knows? 
All. I don't. 
Myers. None of you? Lands a mass! That means that 

we are cheated out'n soap. This is what I call getting 

fooled. 
Goose. I'm going to get some Soap from the store. 
Becker. But that's so expensive. Only twenty bars for 

a dollar. Mrs. Dollar always gives us twenty two. 
Myers. Oh, I see you are thru with your coffee. I'll take 

the dishes into the kitchen (rises and begins.) 
Long. No, Mrs. Myers, don't trouble about the dishes. 

Call Tena. 
Myers. No, dear, no! She'll only talk foolish stuff about 

us. Give me your cup, please (gathers in dishes and 

exit.) 
Goose. Did you believe Mrs. Dollar to be as mean as that? 

It looks as tho she's loony. 
Becker. Everything goes wrong to-day. In the first place 

the cookies fell flat; then the first batch of coffee was 

gone; then Mrs. Dollar felt insulted. Three wrongs 

committed in one afternoon. 
Steele. Let her go, if she doesn't care to stay. I'm going 

over to my neighbor and borrow soap from her until 

we order again . . . But what takes my breath away is 

our minister. What makes him balk at burying old 

man Horner, I should like to know. 
Loper. And he was such a good man. Almost every 

time he attended service he would drop a penny into the 

contribution box. That's a fact, too. There are many 

people going to church who don't do that. And yet 

our minister refuses him a funeral. I think he ought 



21 

to be ashamed of himself. 

Becker. Does anybody know what happened between 
them? (all sit still as if thinking.) 

Myers (enters.) The way it looks we'll have some rain 
yet. 

Becker. There! What did I tell you? Our cat never 
scratches her left ear without something to follow. 

Goose. And the old she-owl in Henning's swamp 

Harder (interruptingly.) For land's sake don't start to 
talk about the weather again. . .Then none of you knows 
why the minister declines to bury old man Horner? 

Taylor- Maybe it didn't suit him just right. You all 
know the minister is getting old, and old people are 
cranky. 

Becker. Cranky? He is more than cranky, he is cross- 
grained. If some one says things he doesn't like he is 
sure to deny him a funeral. 

Steele. But a still bigger hot-head was old man Horner; 
and the biggest cranky-head of them all is our president 
Mrs. Dollar. She likes to play off the stylish lady, and 
hikes it as soon as she's made our head lousy. Let me 
alone with stylish ladies, I say! 

Long. Well, does she know why the minister refuses the 
funeral? 

Steele. Why shouldn't she? Didn't she tell us about it? 

Goose. And I think if she knows one thing she most pro- 
bably knows the other. What made her run away so 
soon? She did that to vex us! 

Becker. I believe you're right, she is the most treacher- 
ous and tricky woman I know. 

Myers. Oh dear, people, don't make such a fuss about it. 
I'll send Tena after her to enquire about it, and then 
we'll know. 



22 

Goose. Yes, Mrs. Myers, do that; I'm sure she can't be 

far yet. 
Myers. Good, I'll tell Tena to hurry (exit.) 
Long, This way we'll find out before we leave. 
Loper. And mark you what I say: you'll see it's the 

fault of the minister. 
Steele. Who knows, Mrs. Loper! Old man Horner al- 
ways acted very pious and innocent, but who is to trust 

the sanctimonious people! 
Goose. Sure! under no circumstances. Especially not the 

men-folks. I think the minister knows more about old 

Horner than we do. 
Steele. Yes, he is very shrewd and sharp. 
Long. And I say, every man's'got a spot on his life which 

he tries to cover up. Most likely old man Horner had 

more than one such spots. 
Goose. Why not? They say when his wife died so sud- 
denly, he let her lie three days without calling in the 

minister. 
Taylor. And very likely now the minister wants to punish 

him for that. See? 
Myers (enters.) Dear me, what a raiD storm outside! 
All(rising, excitedly.) Rain, you say? 
Myers. As if one is pouring out barrels of water! Who 

would have believed this ? 
Becker. I thought so right away, for our quills never fly 

in the fence corner without bringing rain. 
Taylor. And our geese never flap their wings for nothing 
Harder. And our red-striped cow never blows her nostrils 

unless something happens. 
Myers (soothingly.) Yes -yes -I say, those beasts often 

know more than we do. 
Harder. But now! Now we'll get wet to the skin going 



23 

home. 

Becker. And none of us has thought of taking an umbreK 
la along. Well, this is a nice fix we're in. 

Goose. Mrs. Dollar has been the wiser woman of us all^ 
for she had sense enough to go home while the weather 
was yet good. Now our whole Soap Club will get wet. 

Becker. And as soon as soap gets wet it grows slippery. 
A nice predicament, I say! 

Loper. Yes, people; but what's the use of feeling sore a- 
bout it? 

Myers. Maybe if you all wait a while yet, it'll stop rain- 
ing. 

Taylor. Not if my geese flap their wings the way they did. 
As a rule it'll rain for three days without stopping in a 
case like this. 

All (screaming.) Dear me! — Lands! for life's sake! — Three 
days ! . . . 

Goose. Where's my things, my cape and shawl? I'm go- 
ing home. 

All (in great mix-up.) So ami — Mrs. Myers, whereas 
my shawl? my hat? — Listen, how it pours! — It sounds 
just like a cloud-burst. 

Myers. Wait a little yet, will ye, women? Tena'll be 
back in a moment and then you'll find out why the minis- 
ter refused a funeral to old Horner. 

Goose. What's the use, Mrs. Myers, if we all get soaked? 

Becker. We'll get soaked anyhow. So why not wait as 
well? 

Harder. To say the truth, I would really like to know 
why old Horner has to stay unburied. 

Tena (enters with skirt over her head.) 

Myers. There's Tena! Well, Tena, did you catch Mrs. 
Dollar? 



24 

TeD a (shaking* herself as tho shaking off rain.) Yes, I 
caught up with her at the gate. 

Myers* And what did Mrs. Dollar say? Why does the 
minister refuse to bury old man Horner? 

Tena (very loud and distinctly.) Because he isn't dead yet. 

All (start a great buzzing and bustle, some screaming, 
some laughing very loud and prolonged, others scold- 
ing.): Such baseness! — Oh this cruel Mrs. Dollar! — 
Fooling the whole Soap Club! — And that's what you 
call a president! — And after all no soap! — But soaking 
wet like geese! (Curtain.) 



^ 



€fftndf wahti am lan^\Un - -25 €cnts 

%nx 1^ mdnnlid)e ^:|3er]onen (20 finb Dorgefd^ritbni.) ^>"'ejd)reib* 
m bramati^c^er ^ar|teUung ben i'eben^faiif eiiiesjungen ^JJ^obelfd^rnners 
\nHA)l\a^nQ^r\ roibriQen ^>ei-^dltniijen, big er es ^^11 einem eionen (^3e. 
fd^art bvingt l^i^t iinb (Bd^attcn Ti)cd)|eln mit einanber ab imb fiiiD 
berartiQ iDivffam imt cmanber mxwohtn, ha% hk ^anbliinq beg ^u- 
fd^auers ^er^ mdd^tig anregt. @in guter 5:talog Don etroa aubertlmlb 
^tunben ^l:Guer. ' 

^^^ ^«^i«t««3- ^ ^ . . . . 20Ce«t^. 

gur 1 roeiblid^e unb 8 niannlid)e Sf^ottcn. 3Me gcinfenj i)l bcr 
@rcn53awn aioif^en ben ^tnroefcn jroeier garmer, bis ben l^erfommlid^en 
©treit urn bie geinfens ^it atter ©eroalt Dermeibenn)oaen unbtro^ aUer 
55orfid^t erft ved^t ^inelngeraten. ^ie 35e^anblung beg ©egenfianbeg ift 
frud^tbar, fpannenb nnb ergiebt einc trefflid^e moral, ha^ milku Idnb- 
lid^er 5Irt, bic ^nfaenierung nid^t fd^rocr. ^rauer txma einc etunbe 
Ktttttfc^^ofior SttcmcU = . , 25 €ent3. 

giirO mdnnlid^e nnb 5 roeiblid^e mUen, ^ieg ift ein duBcrii 
fomifd^er dialog in pdmmerfdber 35hinbart, in bem ber franfe ,,Tord^' 
Idnd^ting" einc gro^c dioUt fpielt. D^aturboftor ^tremel fnriert il)n, 
aber in einer 2Beife, hit jiemlid^ ntittelaherli^ unb ber pommerfc^fn 
^nuten^errfd^aft angemeffen ifi. ^ieg (Btixd cnnogUd)t eine feme 
l^iftorifd^e 5)ar)lellung in burd^ang l^umoiDcaer ^ti]e, ^amv tUm 
anbertl^alb ©tunben. 

%nx 4 mdnnlid^e unb 3 raeiblid^e dioUtn. @in du^erft ergo^hcver 
S^roanf in fdd^fif^en ^4)ialeft, ber fi^um „greileind^enSoregnirnobji= 
ge^^aabjeoieg" bre^t unb bag ganae Sang auf bie ^l^eine bringt, big 
grdulcin ^ord^cn erfd^eint unb bag gan^e ^^au§ mit etlid^en ©orten 
auSeinanber jagt. Seid^t unb red^t poffierlic^. ^auer etrca breioicrtel 
@tunbe. 
f>cr ^eifmnorr. . . . . ,. , , 20 €c«i^. 

(5in ^umorifiifd^er 1)ialog fiir 10 rociblid^c jKotten. Tauer etira 
einc ©tunbc. ^^cierfd^" l^at ^cute ben .^^eifenflopp", einc ^t\- 
cinigung Don garmcrfrauen gum ^roecfc ber ^riDcrbung bittiger ^^aidq^ 
feife, Ui ]xd) in ©i^ung, unbioag ba aHeg paffiert, bag fottt ,,einer gar 
nid^ mcinen. ©0 oieic 5raueng im |>aufc unb benn Uim ^ringel 
nid^!" (Sin du^erf! furjrociliger unb fpag^after I^ialog. 



/-IBRORy OP 



CONGRESS 




DRAMATIC PLAYS FOR 

SOCIETIES. 

Honesty is the best policy. 

For about twenty male characters. * Scenes: a cabinet" 
maker s workshop and a crossroad. A lively arranged olav 

°s a drLfaTrom rP^f^^'"^ % ^T-P'^^ ''' dramlt'c tallnV 1? 
IS a drdma from real life, dealing with the laboring class 
especially with lionest ambition Ind the fate it meet^s with 

ttlrtySutes.'""'°''' P'"'""'- ^'^'^ ^^'^ one Srand 

Grapejuice oQc 

«*fl .^^f^Jii''"?^ ^Y"^^ ^"'" seven male chaVacterV. * Scene,* the 
office of the Lord Secretary. Although this play makes 
aHusions to some public happenings Ind treats the whole 
a.iUivadabsardam it offers fun galore for all people wfth 
a pohti.-.ial vein and sufficient humor to take this as what 

hour. '^^ ^ ""^^"^ ^^ ^^' ^ "^^*°"*' ^^'■«^- ^iSs fo^one 

The Chiropractor. 25c 

tar..^ serio-comic play for nine male'and nine female charac- 
ters. Plays about one hour and thirty minutes. An entire 

y uneducated grist mill owner in Pomerania:Wolgast' 
Germany, engaged to the study of chiropractic is called 
upon to cure the d uke of a stiff neck by me^ans of Jiis nlw^? 
attained science. The duke, a "surly old monster": mtkes 

mrTtest'^'^Airth J^'1^ '"^ ^^^" chiropractor is ^u^ to f 
^iffiliit L,H ^^\ ^""'^^ ^'■^ genuinely humorous, not 
difficult, and ought to ensure success to the entertainment 

Ruled by Suffragettes 20c 

A humorous play for about fifteen female characters in 
two scenes. A lively and exceedingly funny play denictlne 
a future city, ruled by women according to the whims ani 
notions of the suffragettes. Fun by the bushel and interest- 
pK^onrhour'' ''• ^'' *^ '"^ P"*^ " °° your program.. 
Wanted — a Wife jg^i 

tpr/ -r^JTH'"'"^^ P'«^ ^°'" ^."^o 'nale and 'two female' charac- 
ters. Two bachelors, getting that lonesome feeling, agree 
to advertise for a "real wife", not a lady, but for a wife 
7^L'^ V^^'"^}"" ^?'"k for her daily bread as men are wont 
^rt^r^^r'^' female applicant for the position is asked to 
forward a sample of her proficiency in cooking, otherwise 
no offer will be considered. The answers they got to this 
Ad are really worth while. A very interesting and funny 
play. Time, about three quarters of an hour 



